A man on a storm grey horse raced through a seemingly abandoned forest, the man's cloak streaming behind him. His hood had fallen back long ago, revealing a young face and pure white hair. Though they were both exhausted from the ride, the man pushed the horse to keep going, fueled by the terror he knew was behind them. His pursuer, though on foot, seemed to know no earthly limits. So he and his mount continued, their way lit only by the faint light of the moon, regardless of the tree branches slapping them as they went by.

After what seemed like an eternity, the horse trotted to a stop in a small clearing with a stream running through. Its head already drooping, it walked to the stream and began to drink in great gulping draughts. The man allowed it for a short while-his mount was exhausted-but pulled the horse's head away from the water before he drank too much to run properly. The man sat up and looked around surveying the trees for any sign of movement, but not moving the horse, allowing it some rest. After a couple of minutes of this, the man leaned down to pat his horse and whisper encouragement.

"Good job Stormchaser, good job…" He looked up again and glanced around, and not seeing any movement, dipped to speak to the horse again. "You ran well, and there's a carrot in your future, because I think we lost him-"The man's eyes flew open in alarm, and he quickly grabbed his ears as if to prevent the thought from floating off. Nonono! Damn it, don't jinx yourself! The man thought furiously to himself. As if fate needs another excuse to foul this up!

The man froze, listening. After a few seconds, he relaxed and uncovered his ears, just before an enormous cracking sound rang out behind him.

A large pine tree, split directly down the middle, fell to the ground. Behind it stood a man who seemed like an exact copy of the original. A feral grin spread over his lips. "Guess who?"

Cursing, the man wheeled Stormchaser around to face the pursuer. His glove crackled with energy as he readied a thunder-type magic; he didn't need the tome, he had long since memorized the spell. The pursuer slowly walked forward, laughing at the pulsating magic. "Really? You expect anima magic to do anything to me? Perhaps you should have kept up on your studies of dark magic, it might serve you well no-"

The man yelled "Thoron!" and released a beam of lightning that blew through the pursuer's face and silenced his mocking voice. He grinned and let out a sigh of relief before realizing a) the body wasn't falling over and b) the head seemed to be regrowing. "Damn." He swiftly turned Stormchaser around and tore off into the night once more. He had only ridden for a minute before trees started to splinter around him in clouds of miasma-like dark magic.

"That wasn't very nice!" The pursuer's voice sounded behind him. Shots of dark lighting and strange fire continued to fly by him, getting nearer with each shot. As the man tried to see what was ahead, he found the trees thinning out around him.

Oh, crap. If I get in the open, I'll be that much easier to hit, and I don't regrow! Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a victorious "HA!" and he had only enough time to think Oh crap once more before Stormchaser was replaced by a thunderous explosion of dark magic.

The man awoke a few seconds later in a field. He quickly sat up, prompting a headache to remind him to be more careful. Looking towards the forest, he saw a cloud of smoke rising in the moonlight. After checking himself for wounds and finding none, he turned and glared at the forest, wincing.

"That was my favorite horse, damnit. If I get my hands on you-"A hard, calloused, hand grabbed his face and dragged him to his feet. The mocking voice, an exact copy of his own that he thought he had blown away just a few minutes ago, spoke again.

"You'll what? Join him in pieces? I'd rather you not. You see, we have a dragon to resurrect, and you're a vital part in that." The feral grin rippled over the pursuer's face once more." Now be a good little boy and let me join you in that head of yours… Fellblood."

The man grimaced at the title that his father had insisted on calling him. Distaste etched itself on his features just before a disturbing feeling echoed through his being. Both the man and his pursuer went completely stiff as the battle transferred itself to their minds.

They remained this way for a while, seemingly still, as the war between minds was waged. It was a fierce battle, but not one the defender could win. If I can… just… distract him from the battle for a moment… He thought. His mental defenses were crumbling. The pursuer was getting in. So he made the first physical move of their fight since the mind battle started. He drew back his arm, and readied the quickest magic that he could, which at that point was a weak Thunder spell, and slammed his hand into his pursuer's body. This proved to be a mistake. The electricity shot through his pursuer, jolting him, but came up his arm and shocked the man as well.

The man's remaining defenses dropped instantly, and like an invading army, the pursuer rushed into his mind and immobilized his thoughts. The pursuer hissed. "Now let us join, Fellblood." But with an unexpected bang, the pursuer was ejected from the man's mind. His body flew back, releasing the man. With a look of shock on his face, he stumbled to his feet. "What!? How!? How could this be!? What went wrong with the process…?"

The man got up, slow but steady, and began readying thunder magic again. "You made one mistake. Began the merge assuming my identity was Fellblood. But I have another name, you know. My birth name. The one my mother gave me. It's Robin, and don't you forget it!" With this, Robin thrust his hand forward, calling "MJONIR!"

A massive bolt of lightning incinerated Robin's pursuer and after examining the spot for a minute, Robin realized that his doppelganger was not regenerating. Exausghted, he turned away, but stopped suddenly.

A horrified expression crossed his face as he felt his memories begin to leave him. After having his mind invaded, and then having the invading force torn out, his mind was broken. He began to panic as his memories, one by one, fled him and dissolved into darkness. The process was so disturbing that he fainted, and lay in the field as his past ran from his head.

The last thing he knew was a strange vision. A vision of a friend, and sword. Of a tall man, dark magic, lightning, and victory. Of betrayal, and menacing laughter.

And then he knew no more.

A/N: G'day! I hope you enjoyed that chapter, because more are coming. Frankly, I don't know when, but they'll come, I assure you. Next chapter will be longer than this. Much, much longer... hehehe... I mean what? Finally, constructive criticism is always welcome. Welp, that's all for now, see you next time!